Sunday June 27, 2009

Pushkar.
The arrival of the monsoon.

Pushkar is one of my favorite cities in Rajasthan. The whole town can be wandered about in less than an hour. It is a place where pilgrims come to do Puja in the holy lake and backpackers come to climb the tall hills which lead to temples. There are groups of Indians who travel from far away, some of whom shave their heads. Sitting in front of the temples which are on every corner there are saffron-clad saddhus, barefoot and covered in ash as grey as their tied up dreadlocks. They carry walking sticks and begging bowls to collect alms from the many Israeli backpackers who come to the holy city for special lassis, handi crafts, and poorly made falafel.

When Reed and I arrived we were surprised to find hardly anyone in the town other than the local shopkeepers and vegetable vendors who bring their crops from the villages in the hills nearby. The water in the holy lake where pilgrims come year around to pray was completely dried up except for one lonely ghaat. There are renovation projects happening to clean up the city and the lake will be dry for 2 months. Our immediate disappointment turned into a peaceful comfort at the intimate feeling of such a small town and lively local community. The absence of water in the lake meant an absence of tourists and people trying to take advantage of tourists. We became voyeurs as we slipped by undisturbed. Our Hindi and the fair weather allowed us to talk to locals for one or two hours at a time. We sat with the bangle sellers and had chai as we talked about Indian and American culture. Even more auspicious than this peaceful day was the arrival of the monsoon.

Since we have moved in I have been watching the sky waiting for the rains to come. The monsoon is taking longer this year and as such, the air has been full of dust and desert heat. When the clouds and thunder rolled in, followed by an hour of light sprinkles and cool wind I wanted to jump up and down. We had the pleasure of watching the big storm rains fall from a covered rooftop restaurant in Pushkar. We have learned this year, first hand, about a special sort of storm, called Aandii, which happens a few days before the monsoon comes. The winds get really strong and the dust blows so thick in the air you have to cover your face. It is short and strong and usually followed by a light sprinkle and dark clouds. The hot dusty winds and promising clouds have been the talk of the town.

As I sit in my dining room writing this, there is lightning and thunder striking in the sky outside our balcony. I have the fan on above me full blast and it is still very hot. I hope the lightning brings more than just the escalated barking of dogs and that when I wake up in the morning for school the dust will be settled by monsoon rains and the air will be cool.

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